


Kitchen Expansion and other battles

by fruitybec



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: A bit of humour, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Team as Family, War, cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:40:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitybec/pseuds/fruitybec
Summary: Jake battles an invading army. His battle plan does not go as it should. Holt steps in when it seems he is all but defeated.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KagekaNecavi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagekaNecavi/gifts).



> Decided to write a little treat for Yuletide, hope you enjoy it!

Jake watches as the ant meanders along the countertop, finally joining the forward advance to the fruit bowl. Their target didn’t contain any fruit, but was filled with Christmas candy of various flavours, mostly fruit flavours.  The package had said it was made with 10% real fruit juice, and that was all the convincing he’d needed before swiping the bag from Gina’s stash.

Following the trail of ants, he knows if he’d tidied up his kitchen once in a while, this probably wouldn’t be an issue, but here he is, dealing with a full on military assault via the land based troops of formicidae. He’d done some research- Amy would be proud- but the first step to winning a war is knowing your enemy. The research had made him feel tired so he’d laid on the couch to have a nap, but the feeling of ants crawling over his skin had become a new concerning constant.

Reminding himself that it was just his brain playing tricks with him, he refuses to turn on the light. Jake’s dreams included one where he was picked up from the bed and walked through the apartment, to the fridge where he got his new ant overloads some soda, spilling it all over the floor so they could enjoy their spoils of war.

On waking, he tries to ignore the little black dots on the cushions, the bodies of ants he’d squished during his dreams. Despite the ants taking heavy casualties, the first battle of the invasion had to go to the ants for the psychological damage they had caused. Jake: 0, Ants: 1.

Having a day off work he decides to devote the whole day to warfare, these ants won’t get the better of him and his apartment. He needs to find their nest, where they sleep at night. Destroy the queen, destroy the nest, and win the war!

He follows the little critters from his fruit/Christmas candy bowl, to the cupboard which is full of pop tarts and cereal, and opening these cupboards, he sees that all his breakfast (and sometimes lunch and dinner foods) are covered in ants. There’s no coming back from this, those delicious foods are now fodder for the war machine. Jake: 0, Ants: 2.

Climbing up onto the cupboard, he spies a tiny little hole in the top back corner, where a bunch of ants are squeezing through, carrying things (most likely fruit bowl candy) into the hole, and coming out empty legged – going to collect more war material.

Turning and jumping down from the bench top, he finds bug spray. He would use nerve gas on them, screw the rules of war! Climbing back up, he sprays a lot of insecticide into the hole, and watches with glee as a couple of the ants immediately curl up and die. Jake: 1, Ants: 2

 He then follows their trails – they really shouldn’t leave a buddy of friends, it’s too easy to track these guys.  They would never manage to make it out of the kitchen jungle if they were this sloppy on egress! Didn’t they learn anything from ‘nam?! They should be calling in the ‘choppers not trekking through the jungle.

He lines up the top of the spray can with his eye, and uses the plastic nozzle as a sight. Sniping the ants, one by one, Jake knows victory is closer. Soon it will be D Day, and he will land on their shores and take the fight to them, right in the nest. This would be a victory that the history books would memorialise for years to come! Spinning around on the countertop, he leans a little too far left, and the next thing he knows he’s spraying insecticide (or is it DDT?) and falling, falling down.

His head makes contact with the floor and he’s reminded of every war film he’d ever watched. This is the part of the movie where the hero gets beaten down, but he manages to regroup and take down the bad guys even though he is full of bullet holes.

Then the enemy spot the weakness in his defences. He’s no longer spraying insecticide, but lying prone on the floor, a soft target in warfare. He certainly wasn’t a tank. He was a lone pilot, shot down over enemy territory, injured while the enemy crept closer in the dark.

Then they are on him, crawling over his legs and feet first, and Jake tries to sit up, but the world spins, and he has to allow his enemy access to his legs. But then they advance further, taking more territory, and then they’re on his arms, crawling onto his t shirt. The enemy have successfully invaded his land, and were now going to colonise him. He’d be an ant’s nest within the week. Jake: 1, Ants: 3.

When one of the ants crawl up his neck, he brings his hand up to squish it – he’s not completely incapacitated, but instead of landing a devastating tactical blow to the ants, he slaps his shoulder and the ant army continues unabated, up his neck and then they’re crawling onto his face, and this just couldn’t get any worse.

He reminds himself that the war’s not yet over, and that he isn’t paralysed, or as far as he can tell, he not paralysed, so he brings his hands to his side – the floor still covered in ants– and pushes himself up.

He needs to call for back-up. He needs to bring the troops. He’s been ambushed in the jungle, and he needs the support of his battalion. He needs to establish coms with his unit!

Pulling himself to his feet, he’s happy he’s not paralysed. Jake: 2, Ants: 3. Hey, it’s not much of a victory, but he’ll take it.

The ants are streaming down from the cabinets – half angry, half dying. The little hole where a couple of ants were coming and going is now black with the bodies of ants. He turns his back on the battle scene and retreats to where he left his phone. He has coms, and his friends won’t be far away. Jake: 3, Ants: 3.

He selects his CO from the list, and touches his head gingerly while he waits for her to answer. Pulling his hand away from his scalp he notices there’s blood on his fingers. That was not good. Jake: 3, Ants: 4.

It takes a couple of seconds for her to answer her phone, and he vaguely remembers she was working today, working on surveillance, with Boyle, while he was at home, fighting a war. ‘Jake, this better be serious!’ Her voice is sharp.

Fair response, considering he was known for calling her when he was bored and wanted to ask her if he should have fizzy water or still or if he should watch TV or a movie, and which movie, Die Hard or The Expendables? (Die Hard, always).

‘’Course it’s important, Commander.’ Oh, wait, war wasn’t really going on, the ants weren’t actually a combat force. ‘Uh, Amy. Yeah. I fell over.’

‘Congrats, poohead. Slap a Band-Aid on it and move on.’

Also fair. ‘But I’m bleeding. From my head. I think I sustained a concussion and am no longer battle effective.’

The phone goes silent as Amy processes what he’s just said. ‘Okay so you’re actually hurt?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Not actually at war, but best to err on the side of caution.

‘Okay. I’m going to call Holt and ask him to send Gina around, or to call you an ambulance.’

‘No ambulance.’

‘Okay. I’ll call Holt.’

The big boss, the Commander, would know how to deal with this, and also how to take on the ants. ‘Okay.’

**

Holt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Well, he could believe it, and that was certainly worse. Amy on the other end of the telephone, informing him that Peralta had somehow caused himself a concussion and thought he was fighting a war and that Santiago was his commanding officer. It was insanity, but that seemed to be the Peralta way. A talented Detective, but a little boy who needed constant baby-sitting.

Gina had left early, due to some dance recital that he was sure wasn’t actually occurring. But he’d learnt long ago that to let Gina do as she wished meant that the whole office ran smoothly, and her productivity levels would soar. So she’d left not long after arriving at work.

Grabbing his keys, he drives to the detective’s house, thinking of all the ways he could reprimand him if he’s just got a little cut on his knee and certainly didn’t need an adult to come to his aid.

The scene that greets him is surreal. Cereal boxes litter the ground, their contents spilled on the floor and then he spots the ants. Little tiny insects all over the kitchen, but concentrated in the top cupboard of Peralta’s kitchen. A can of insect spray lies to the side of the mess. Peralta was obviously taking care of his ant infestation and had fallen from the counter-top, like a child falling down reaching for the cookie jar.

That’s when he notices the blood amongst the cereal and ants. A worrying amount of blood. As he rounds the corner, he sees Peralta sitting on his couch, holding his hand to the back of his head.

‘Come on, Peralta.’ He walks over to Jake and pulls his hand from the wound for a second to look at the damage. Happy that he hasn’t split his skull open, but there is quite a bit of blood oozing from the wound, he knows this is a hospital trip.

‘You here to supervise the tactical retreat, boss?’

The blow to the head had obviously crossed a few wires in his head. That’s assuming he wasn’t acting like this before the tumble. He couldn’t be sure. ‘Yes, Peralta. We are retreating to the hospital. You need medical attention.’

‘Great.’ Jake stands up off the couch and sways from side to side, standing with his feet planted like he was standing on the deck of a boat that was in rough seas. Striding over, Holt grabs him by the shoulders to stabilise him. ‘You will need your wallet, phone and keys. Where are they?’

Peralta points to all the requested items, and Holt walks around the room, picking everything up and tucking them into his own pockets. Meanwhile the bleeding continues slowly but surely, and Jake is standing by the couch in the same stance a baby has when they’ve just learnt to stand up without support – feet a bit further than shoulder width apart, knees bent and arms out to the side – providing extra balance.

‘Okay, Detective. Let’s go.’ Wrapping his arm under Jake’s underarms, he leads him from his apartment, careful not to lead him through the carnage of cereal and ant bodies.

‘Thanks boss. Do you think I’ll get awarded the Purple Heart?

‘No.’

‘O-kay.’

Settling the detective in the front seat of his car, he hopes he doesn’t bleed on the upholstery, it would be unfortunate to have to explain to Kevin why there was blood in the vehicle. Again.

***

Standing at the edge of his hospital bed, the doctor looks down at his chart with a frown. ‘Okay, Mr. Peralta. We’ve run a full battery of tests, and you certainly have a concussion.’

‘And isn’t that fabulous?’

‘So you will need to be on the concussion protocol for the next 48 hours, which means you will need to be woken up every two hours and cannot be left alone for any period of –‘

Jay cuts him off. ‘No being alone. No climbing ladders. No following my dreams of getting gold on the balance beam.’ He rolls his eyes and starts thinking of who he would ask to baby him for the next two days. Amy would be super into following the rules, and would wake him up every two hours even if he begged her not to. Charles wouldn’t wake him if he asked him not to, but it would be 48 hours stuck in a room with Charles.

‘Ah yes, but you really need to take this seriously. As you say, this is your third concussion in the last year, and you are at risk of permanent brain damage.’

‘Yes, Doctor. I will follow the concussion protocol to the letter.’ Gina definitely wouldn’t wake him every two hours, because she wouldn’t wake up every two hours for anyone. But she would probably insist on music, and he thought she was going to some festival thing that night. Or, if Holt asked. Dance recital. Not that he really knew why she thought going to a dance recital would mean Holt would let her go, but she’d somehow worked her magic, and he’d seen plenty of new pictures on her Instagram from the festival.

‘So, who will we be discharging you into the care of?’

Oh crap. He needs to call someone now, if he wants to escape from prison/hospital. But Amy and Charles were working, and he couldn’t expect Terry to bail on his family to look after him. Hitchcock and Scully were off the options list for obvious reasons.

‘Uh, let me make some phone calls.’

‘Sure.’ A cacophony of alarms occurs in another room, and the doctor bolts in that direction while someone screams code blue. Certainly not great, but if you were going to have a medical emergency, the hospital was the place to have it.

Now the question was who was going to help him out, or else he would be stuck here in the hospital for at least 24 hours before Amy or Charles got off their surveillance gig and could take him home.

Twenty minutes later, the nurse comes in with a piece of paper clipped to a board. 'Hi Mr. Peralta.' She smiles at him flirtatiously, and he smiles back. Nurse fetish! Maybe he can get Amy to dress up for him. 'We just need you to sign this form and then you can get on your way.' She smiles at him again as she hands him a pen.

'Ah thanks,' He looks at her name stitched onto her chest. 'Holly.' Was this a clerical error and they were discharging him without someone volunteering to be his carer?

Holt walks into the room, his face as expressive as always. And then it dawns on Jake. The Captain had bailed him out. The Captain was going to come back to his place and look after him. This sends a warm feeling flooding through Jake. Also, that they were going to be spending so much time together, he'd be able to gather more information about the life of their illustrious Captain Holt.

'You?' He incredulously asks.

'Of course, Peralta. I'm not going to leave you here.'

'You're the best, boss. We get to spend the weekend together!'

'Uh. Yes.'

'Kevin won't mind?' Jake can tell from the expression on his face, that Kevin has not yet been brought into the loop, and that Holt was likely in the dog house when Kev did find out that Holt would be staying with Jake.

The Captain grabs the few things they brought with them, takes a copy of the paperwork held out to him. Holly beams at him. 'Everything you need to know about his care is on here, Sir. If anything is out of the ordinary or on this list of bad things, don't drive him to hospital, call an ambulance. And provide them with this information.' Another sheet of paper, this one with some medical notes on it.

'Of course. Thank you for your time.'

Jake jumps out of the bed, but then freezes as the world moves beneath his feet in a way that it shouldn't. Or maybe the earth stopped spinning and that's the strange feeling he can feel now?

Holt leads them out to the car, and once again settles Peralta into the front seat, and passes him the papers. Jake attempts to read them, but finds he can't concentrate on the letters, can't make out what they say without using a lot of concentration. He gives in and looks up, content to just watch the neighbourhood pass by. He notices that they're not heading back to his place, they're heading towards the drug store.

'Uh, Holt. They already gave me pain killers.'

'I know.'

They continue in that direction, but they pass the chemist without stopping.

'Boss?'

'Yes Peralta?'

And then it dawns on Jake. Holt was taking him back to his own house. Jake would be spending 48 hours with Holt, at Holt's house! The possibilities for sleuthing are endless, if only he can make sense of the things he finds.

'What about Kevin?' He knows that the university professor doesn't like Holt bringing his work home, and if there ever was a case of someone bringing their work home, this was it.

'He suggested it.'

What? Kevin suggested Holt bring him back to their abode, their casa? He doesn't ask the question of why, although he really wants to. 'Okay, good.'

 

***

Pulling up at the house, Holt once again helps him out of the car and into the house, his arm wrapped carefully around Peralta's body. Kevin said he wouldn't be home until later that afternoon, so the house was silent, bar for the barking away at their entrance. He leads Peralta into the living room and carefully lowers him onto the couch.

'Take your shoes off before you put them up.'

Jake rolls his eyes like he can't believe Holt would say something like that to him. 'Of course, Captain. Who do you think I am? A savage?'

Yes, sometimes. 'I'll get you some water.' He grabs the remote and hands it to the young detective, smiling when he turns the TV onto the cartoon channel.

The afternoon passes in relative quiet, Holt doing some paperwork at the dining table, occasionally coming into the living room to check to see how he is doing. Jake lies on the couch, trying to follow the storylines of the cartoons, but it feels like he’d just pulled an all-nighter, staring at the same warehouse for two days, and now his brain won’t work properly.

Holt leaves Peralta to it, his job was not to entertain the detective, it was to make sure he didn’t make his injury any worse. At five o’clock, Holt prepares himself for Kevin to come home – making sure that the desk before him is neat and tidy. When Kevin does finally come in, he makes a beeline for the dining room, somehow knowing that Holt would have made that room a makeshift study. Leaning down, he presses his lips to Holt’s, and they quickly update each other on how their day went. It was somewhat of a tradition, and although it was a little sentimental, Holt considered it an essential part of his day.

Kevin goes into the living room, and Holt can hear him asking Peralta how he was feeling and what the hell he was doing when he gave himself a concussion, this time. He can hear the glee in Peralta’s tone when he realises that Holt must have told him about Peralta’s nasty habit of getting concussions to know that it was something that had happened before.

Letting the other two men converse in private, he signs off on the last overtime form, knowing that Jake would be needing the extra cash and it was lucky he was one of the hardest working detectives in the NYPD, and always racked up the OT.

Kevin comes back into the dining room. ‘There’s steaks in the fridge, thought we could have them and salad?’

‘I’ll get them going.’ Grabbing the plastic container containing the steaks, Holt throws some oil in a pan and starts seasoning the meat, while Kevin pulls various salad items from the fridge. Jake sways into the kitchen after a couple of minutes and leans up against the kitchen counter, out of the way of the two men making dinner.

‘Well, it’s nice that the ants haven’t taken your kitchen and made it their territory.’

‘Peralta. We wouldn’t let the ants get a foothold in our house, we do clean. But just so you know, there is ant poison you can buy – and the ants like it and they take it back to the queen and it kills the queen, and then – no ant problem.

‘Great. Why didn’t you tell me that before I launched a full scale war on those little bastards?’

‘Because you didn’t tell me you had ants.’ Holt steps back to allow Kevin access to the salt and pepper shakers, and he flips the steak in the pan and then pushes it off to a wooden chopping board covered in herbs.

Minutes later, Kevin has plated the steaks and Holt carries the salad to the table and they all sit down to eat. Jake can’t help but observe everything that goes on between the two other men, their ease around one another, the way that they help each other out without making a big deal out of it. They might not be the most emotionally available people, but they obviously cared for one another a lot.

Once all the food is consumed Kevin and Jake head back into the living room, Kevin sitting in a recliner and picking up a heavy looking copy of Ulysses. Putting his reading glasses on, he settles back into where he left off in the story – or, what passes for a story in Joyce’s eyes. Jake turns his eyes back to the TV.

‘The noise of the TV doesn’t bother you, Kevin?’ Jake asks, not wanting to stop the older man from reading comfortably in his own house.

‘No. Raymond usually watches TV at night. I think he’s currently half-way through Stranger Things on Netflix. It looks average, if you ask me.’

Jake’s eyes light up with this unexpected new knowledge. Captain Holt likes to watch TV at night, and it wasn’t documentaries or recorded operas and symphonies that he watched: Holt watched pulpy TV like a human being!

Was it an attempt to fit in with his human companions? We may never know!

Holt walks back into the living room and grabs the remote, Peralta trying to grab it before his boss could, but his reactions are slowed and nowhere near as snappy as usual. Netflix gets turned on and before he knows it, he’s watching Netflix with the Holtses.

Every now and then, Kevin looks up from his book and comments on the TV show, normally something about a technique that the director or writer was using, or that something was completely implausible.

The thing that really gets Jake is when they start to talk about Ulysses, and Holt reveals that he’s read it and that they have mini book club where they both read the same book at the same time so they can talk about what they think. Holt is a fan of Joyce, and it was his choice to select the novel – and it was coming up to Blooms Day so he couldn’t resist the Irish author. Kevin wasn’t a fan, and considered the book pointless, full of purple prose and that it had gained its place in the canon through being a difficult book to read, but certainly not a good book.

They argue about Ulysses between them, in what would be to anyone else a very scholarly fashion, but that fit these two men perfectly. Jake closes his eyes, and imagines being a child here. Hearing his parents argue good-naturedly about Mr Dedalus, and Mr Bloom and Molly. Their deep voices wash over him, and he wishes that this had been his childhood, that he’d had family like this. And then he realises that he does have family like this. That Holt was now part of his family.

Ants: 3. Jake: 4.

 

 


End file.
